


English Breakfast

by TonySawicki



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Silly, punkcop brotp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-29 23:50:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8510548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TonySawicki/pseuds/TonySawicki
Summary: Beth recruits Sarah for some help in preparing the perfect romantic breakfast for Alison





	

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Orphan Black, characters, etc. I just always want more Sarah and Beth being bros.

“SARAH!” There was a loud, insistent banging at the door to Felix’s loft. “SARAH ARE YOU HOME?!” More banging.

“Jesus bloody Christ,” Sarah muttered, dragging herself out of a tangle of blankets. “Beth, that you?” she called. She pulled a pair of pants on as she squinted at a clock. “God, Beth, it’s _five in the morning_!”

“RIGHT YOU ARE, DELINQUENT! NOW IT’S TIME TO RISE AND SHINE!” Beth shouted back.

“Shit, Beth,” Sarah dragged the door open. “You know, Fe does have neighbors.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I think.”

Beth pushed past her into the loft, her arms full of overflowing paper grocery bags. “I’ll tell them it’s police business. Now get over here; I need your help.”

Sarah didn’t often hear Beth sounding so frazzled. It worried her. “What is it? Beth, is Alison okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, no, Ali’s fine,” Beth said, setting her bags on the counter. “Thing is, for _weeks_ I’ve been promising that _today_ I’d make her breakfast in bed. Real romantic, right?”

Sarah stared blankly at her. “Yeah and?”

“AND I only just realized about half an hour ago I have no idea what the hell I’m doing.”

“What, you just realized?”

“Like, I thought I’d make some scones, so I’m reading the instructions and halfway through I’m like what even _is_ any of this stuff? I’m so lost I don’t even know where the beginning is!”

“Calm down, calm down. Okay,” Sarah tried to blink the remaining sleep out of her eyes. “Okay. So you don’t make scones. Make her something else.”

“Sure! So I tried to do pancakes with blueberries in—I don’t think I ever found where that smoke was coming from. Tried eggs? Great! If you like burnt, runny mush!”

“There must be some—”

“I tried everything, Sarah. I found out I can make exactly one breakfast food and it is instant oatmeal—which is only fine because I happen to _like_ my oatmeal extra lumpy.” Beth was looking slightly crazed. She bored more of a resemblance to Helena than Sarah had ever noticed before.

“Christ,” Sarah said again. “Haven’t you ever cooked anything?”

“Apparently not!” Beth said. “I eat frozen dinners, Sarah! Or I get those, like, rotisserie chickens from the supermarket!”

“Right,” said Sarah. After a pause she said, “Wait, so what are you doing _here_?”

“Here for you!” Sure, ideally she might’ve come for Felix but he was not home today, and the truth was sometimes Beth felt moderately intimidated by Felix given his closeness with Alison. So Sarah Manning seemed like Beth’s best option!

“Me, what me?” Sarah was barely awake. She hadn’t even put a bra on, what could Beth possibly want with her?

“I am GOING to make Alison a nice, romantic breakfast in bed,” Beth started pouring the contents of her grocery bags all over the counter. “And _you_ are going to help me.” Two smallish oranges rolled off onto the floor, away from the assorted ingredients now occupying all the counter space.

“What do you think I am, Beth? Gordon bleeding Ramsay? I can’t teach you to cook, especially not in Fe’s kitchen, and especially not at _five o’clock in the morning!!_ ”

“You’re right,” Beth seemed to be looking past her. “Anything we made here would be cold by the time we got it back to Ali’s house. There’s nothing romantic about that.” She began sliding everything off the counter back into the paper bags. A few measuring cups went flying but Beth didn’t seem to notice. “Get your shoes on, Manning.”

“You’re joking, yeah?” Sarah stared at her. “Not serious?”

“As a _heart attack,_ now don’t make me bring you in for resisting a-breakfast!”

 

 

Twenty minutes later, Beth was shushing Sarah as they crept into Alison’s dark kitchen. Once she’d arranged things on the counter Beth said, “Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll read the recipe, you measure, you pour, you cook, and I’ll present the final product.”

“This sounds a bit like I’m making Alison’s romantic breakfast, pal.”

“You know, I carry a gun.”

Sarah sighed. “I just don’t get why you’re _doing_ all this. Are you sleeping on the sofa or what?”

“No! Everything’s good, that’s why I’m doing it! I want to show her that I can follow through on promises, I can be romantic without being in the doghouse, I can give her the kind of home and family she always wanted!”

“And you don’t feel _honesty_ is important in that?” Sarah said.

“Sarah. I will tell her you helped and that I begged you or that you did all of it, whatever you want. Just help me make this happen. Please.”

Against Sarah’s better judgment, seeing her own eyes pleading with her always seemed to weaken her resolve. She pulled out a mixing bowl and got busy. Beth wanted scones? She would get scones.

 

 

“Good mooorning,” Beth sang, carefully balancing the breakfast tray as she pushed Alison’s bedroom door open with her shoulder.

Alison felt the empty spot beside her in bed and sat halfway up. “Where have you been?”

“Why, preparing your royal morning… feast… Break-feast! Here!” Beth said awkwardly, and hurried to put the tray across Alison’s lap.

“Mm,” Alison said, the sweet aromas of oranges and honey and English breakfast tea surrounding her. “This smells amazing.” She was extremely impressed. Alison typically did the cooking for the two of them, but here was a tray beautifully arranged with fresh scones and jam, fruit, eggs and bacon, and more, including a charming little teapot beside an empty cup and saucer. “Hot tea? Yes, please!” She poured some for herself. Beth sat carefully at the foot of the bed, watching. “Tea?” Alison offered.

Beth grinned. “More of a coffee drinker myself.”

Alison nodded. This was something she knew already.

“So yeah, I already had some,” Beth said, gesturing towards the door. “Downstairs.”

“Mmhmm,” Alison said primly. “And is that all that’s downstairs?”

“Ah,” Beth chuckled nervously. “No, I’ve got a clone of myself down there, cooking breakfast for you.” They were both quiet for a moment. In any other relationship, a statement like that would be an obvious joke. This was not any other relationship.

“Sarah?” Alison asked, taking in the scones, teapot, and English muffins. Beth nodded. Alison picked up a scone and started nibbling on it.

“How is everything?” Beth said, after watching Alison eat for a while.

“Really lovely,” Alison said. She handed a scone to Beth. “Please thank Sarah for me.”

Beth was clearly disappointed. She muttered a small, “I will” before biting the corner of her scone. It was cranberry—Alison’s favorite. After another moment Beth said, “Was it really that obvious?”

“That it was Sarah?” Alison asked in surprise. “Well I knew, try as you might, you wouldn’t think to have hot tea on my breakfast tray. You practically live and breathe coffee!”

“But you expected me to get help.”

Alison considered her for a few seconds and said, “I didn’t know what to expect. You always keep me guessing, Elizabeth.” She smiled and reached out to stroke Beth’s cheek with her left hand. “This is really wonderful, and I know it was because of you. I don’t care if you needed some help in the kitchen; this is perfect. Thank you.”

She leaned in and kissed Beth softly, all sweet cranberries and English breakfast tea. 

Sarah peered through the crack of the door and smiled to herself. Mission success. And now she could finally go back to sleep, for god’s sake.


End file.
